Chapter Two
Something was not quite right with his son Alex. It was fair to say that Archie Bentley was a doting father who was very concerned and thought about giving Oskar a call. He could not put his finger on exactly what was wrong, but there was definitely a problem. The medics at NASA had given Alex a full medical clearance after touchdown and quarantine, yet the son he had known for twenty two years was, different; somehow. Alex had always been the life of the party, sometimes embarrassingly extroverted, lively and a bit of a thrill seeker. What Archie saw now was a quiet young man, constantly deep in thought who preferred to stay in his room alone. It was almost as if a part of him (the socially active) had been taken away and replaced by a gloomy and sombre attitude. He didn’t want to resume those nightly chats on the balcony with his father, who so looked forward to that quality time together each day.
People would ring the house, “Hi Archie, is Alex around?” and Alex always seemed to have an excuse for not talking with them. Archie had only spoken to Alex about his moodiness once, only to be told in no uncertain terms that he just wanted to be left alone...but he would try again.
“Alex, can you at least tell me if you’re going back to work at NASA? they have been calling.”
“I don’t think so dad; need to get my head together; sorry I’m so sulky. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Ever since the shuttle landed, I’ve been feeling like shit. I’ve had a full check-up and there’s nothing out of the ordinary, medical wise. The Base shrink asked me a few questions and she couldn’t find anything wrong either.”
“There’s always old Oskar” replied Archie, hoping that Alex would at least consider the option.
-oOo-
Oskar Bruin believed in fairies, dreams and incantations. Given the fact that he was regarded as a bit of a harmless eccentric, some people could not deny that he did seem to possess a marvellous gift of healing, using very peculiar methods. He always seemed to have this power, even as a kid. Not many people knew of his background and just assumed that he was an orphan, struggling through life by himself. Yes, he was known to be in trouble with the law quite often, but there was never violence, injury or a victim involved.
Quite by accident, the State Attorney had come up with something interesting about Oskar Bruin. The Louisiana Governor’s Department had discovered he was one of a number of babies who became known in Australia as the stolen generation. He had been sent to loving adoptive parents in the USA for a better life, and, in the words of those narrow minded do-gooders, “away from the savage, hostile and heathen ways of his family and tribe.” At that time, the evangelists could not understand why his biological (and primitive) single mother was unhappy; indeed, ungracious that her son was being taken away to a better place...after all, his skin was much too fair. That was many, many years ago and it was only in the last few weeks that the Australian government had contacted him, through the State, with offers of compensation. There was even an offering of an all expenses paid trip to the place of his birth, where he may be reunited with his long lost and forgotten family, if in fact, they were able to be traced.
The truth was that Oskar had closed his mind to his past. All this was interesting but from what little research he did do, he found that there was no known remaining family. Over the years, most of the tribe had just wondered off without a trace, away from the protection of those well meaning yet controlling officials. He never knew he was adopted and at age seven, he ran away from his god-botherin parents in Minnesota and slowly worked and found his way to New Orleans. He was a young rebellious kid who reckoned he could take on the world single handed. Oskar inwardly felt that there was no real connection with his folks up north. His memories of babyhood came only in his dreams, and these dreams were not of the homestead in Minnesota; they were of a place far away; the land of the Dreaming.
He declined the offer of the trip back to Australia; however the cash grant he accepted immediately – he had debts to pay, especially to the bondsman to avoid yet another stint at the Bridge City Correctional Centre. Booze, drugs and questionable voodoo practices were among the factors leading him to spend a major part of his life in care or behind bars. However, age was catching up with him and saw him become somewhat of a recluse. He lived in a shack, not too far from the city, yet far enough for some seclusion and privacy.
-oOo-
“What’s with all the new artefacts on your wall Oskar?” asked Archie, “boomerangs, spears, and look here, a crocodile skin?”
“Ya man... me roots. Ah’m Australian Aboriginal doen’t ya know. Look at dem books ‘n magazines, maps, leaterwork, ‘n some dot paintings dat ‘ave ta frame. Ah been sent all dis stuff from all sorts of peoples ‘n folk from down under; ‘ere, guess wat dis is Arch?”
“It’s furry and leathery, looks like a little bag of some type.”
“Ya, it’s a coin purse made offa da scrotum offen a kangaroo.” Archie place it down gingery and gave an involuntary little whistle.
They had known each other for many years now, yet Oskar was never one to engage in small talk. “OK man, wat’s da deal? Ya still git dem da dizzy spells?”
“No Oskar, it’s about Alex – there’s something wrong with him – he’s gone all quite and withdrawn. NASA reckons there’s nothing wrong, but I’m worried about him, never seen him like this before.” He explained about the moodiness and depression.
“Aha, e’s fallen in love, old friend; noting shooer; e’s got a bad case a da blues; dat will be twenty bucks if’n ya please.”
“Old buddy, I only wish that was it. When he does talk to me, he doesn’t even know himself as to what’s wrong. He won’t even talk to his girlfriends or his other close friends; just locks himself away and its gloom and doom. He’s also off his food. I just don’t know what to do about it; I know he’ll hit the roof if I told NASA that there is a problem with him.”
“Ya tink ‘e’ll a jaw wit me?”
“I did ask him, but he wouldn’t commit. But I’m thinking...tomorrow night is meatloaf and homebrew on the veranda. Care to pop in for dinner? No charge.”
“Humm Archie’s meatloaf; OK, Ah’ll make da effort to struggling down da way – ya did say homebrew, didn’t ya cobber?”
“Er, yes Oskar...cobber?”
“Yep mate, its Aussie verdacalar for friend. Fair dinkum, you Yanks, ya need to git out more.”
“No damn Yankees down here pal. Seriously though Oskar, please no coloured stones and feathers or jingle jangles, Alex will not be a happy chappie to see that I’ve gone behind his back.”
-oOo-
Archie was thrilled to see Alex come out of his room and flop himself on a deckchair – he didn’t want any of his father’s meatloaf, but did sip a little moonshine. “Hello Uncle Osk, fancy you being here – no prizes guessing how come.”
“Tell ya wat young Lexie, Ah got priorities. First da booze, den da meat, and den ya’ll. Ya can’t blame ol Oskar for showen some interest. Jist look a ya’ll; a’n lower dan a witchetty grub’s doodle.”
Alex managed a little smile; he knew how much he owed Oskar. For most of his life, Osk had been there for him. They shared some secrets; please don’t tell my Dad, Unc – I promise I’ll pay you back or I’ve given the principal your address to send the report to. When conventional medicine failed, old Uncle Osk would do some hocus pocus and quick as a wink, all health returned. Alex never questioned Osk’s methods or talents.
On one occasion, it looked like Alex may fail the final few tests at the Space Academy when a number of serious bouts of flu overtook him. Had it not been for the bathing in the smokes that Osk organized, he may well still be, a want-to-be astronaut to this day. Alex was aware that there was no logical substance in what Osk was doing, yet, somehow, things always came out right.
It may have been peer pressure or a need to avoid embarrassment, that Alex began to shun old Oskar; certainly since his graduation (with honours). This was also a factor that rec
ently deepened the depression.
“Lexie, ‘ave a gander at dis ‘ere tingy.” Oskar threw over a small yellowing tapering tube. It had some strings of what could have been human hair, attached to the blunt end with a blob of brown resin. Alex caught it over his head and examined it.
“OK Unc, I give up.”
“Dat me boy, is da latest and greatest giggermethingy ‘n guider on da planet; well dat’s accordin to da note. Only git it a few days ago from Australia, from da daughter of a now dead Ngangkari; ya know, a medicine man; a healer. Doent know wat it’s called, so Ah named it da Goomeri Pointing Bone; Goomeri was da postmark on da pack it come on in. Note don’t say much, says it will come back. Ah never used it before and Ah’m a lookin for a guinea pig?”
“How does it work?”
“Stuffed if’n Ah know Lexie. It’s made from bone; but I don’t tink it’s one a dem pointing bones for curses and bad luck; healers never use dem. Ah tink it’s for pointing for a sometin else. Jist lay it along ya finger and wrap da cord over a couple a times. Yep, dat’s it. Now do ya feel anytin boy?”
“Nothing; well maybe a little stupid.”
“Hmm, try moving ya hand around a bit, hmm try turning ya arm ‘n finger in every direction... still nix?”
“Not really Unc, well unless I point this way, then I get a little warm feeling... this way no... this way no...back this way, yes a little warm feeling in my forehead – what do I do now Unc?”
“Hey cobber, ya’ll da world famous pilot ‘n astronaut, plot ya own course.”
Alex stood up and moved his arm from place to place. Archie and Oskar followed him as he took several steps along the veranda and then entered the lounge room.
“Don’t know what’s happening guys, but I seem to be on a trail to something. Dad, you remember telling me of how a shark finds its prey by swimming inside something like a sensing cone? It swims from side to side within the cone to remain on track, and then finally it narrows in to the point of its food? This is something like that; I just keep pointing from side to side and find where the warmth is touching me. See, it’s leading me to this wall.”
Archie whispered to Oskar, “Shit buddy, tell me you didn’t rub some LSD or magic chemical on that bone did you?”
“Aw mate, ‘ow can ya even tink dat? No, dis is ridgy didge; anyhoo, just a look at Lexie, he’s a movin, and even a smilin.”
They both followed Alex and saw him stop in front of a large map of the Continental USA. They all peered at the spot on the map where Alex had placed his finger; Putney, Vermont. “Are you going to tell me that your Goomeri thingy wants me to go there?”
“Yip.”
“Dad?..Dad.?”
“I don’t know what to say Alex, honest, I don’t know. Do you have any feelings about going up there? And what the hell would be the reason anyway?”
“Aw come on now Dad, there’s something else isn’t there? I can read your face Pappy; out with it.”
“Darned if that’s just a co-incidence Alex, but two days ago there was a message on the answering machine; someone wanted to talk to you, a girl. She was one of a few that rang for you – remember? You didn’t feel like talking to anyone that day; you just wanted to be a sad sack in your room. The point is, I looked at the phone display and saw that the call from was Putney, Vermont. I erased it.”
“Don’t exactly know dad, but I tell you something, I’m feeling a lot better, like a load has been lifted off me. Reckon I’ll put my faith in Uncle Osk and take a little trip up into the deep North and see what and why. Any of that meatloaf left dad? I’m a hankering for some good eatens, and oh yes, some more of your Revenuers Revenge.”
“Would you like me to tag along son? I know you are a space engineer, but you still don’t know how to change a flat tire.”
“Dad, this will be a voyage of discovery for me and I feel it’s up to me to see where it leads. Anyway, I’ve got Roadside Assist. Hmm, one never knows, may just meet up with that gorgeous redhead mechanic after I last broke down – still have her number here somewhere. Anyways I have to pack, I’ll be off in the morning Dad, could you give my boss a call and tell him I’m going on a road trip – and you’d better tell him not to write me off the project just yet. Goodnight Unc, thanks for the guidance – as usual. Oh come on, a goodbye hug isn’t sissy. Oh, I nearly forget, here’s the Goomeri back.”
“’ang on ta it for a bit Lexie, Ah tink ya’ll need it more; it’ll find me when it wants to Ah reckon.”
Alex went to the kitchen and came back with a sealed bottle of brew and gave it to Oskar. “Just like old times Unc – and I don’t have to do it behind Dad’s back anymore.” He walked back into the house whistling.
“He still thinks I didn’t know about your special deals of the past. You’re a legend Oskar; I just don’t know how you do it. Just listen to him, what do you think was the problem?”
“Cobber, as Ah said ya, e’sn love and ‘e’s git the blues.”
They both looked at the map on the wall. ‘I wonder what’s so special in Putney, Vermont.”
“Nuttin mo shooer Arch, dat be a female who’s a callin. Tell ya sometin mo, dat woman be powenfull.”
“Should I be worried, old friend?”
Oskar shrugged his shoulders. His intuition told him that something very unusual was going down, but it was too profound, if not overwhelming, to try to interpret. There were forces in play which were way out of his league.
“Lotta snow up dat way now Arch, Ah be tinkin ‘e can use dat coin purse afen a bit.”
The Goomeri Pointing Bone : Sequel to Dwarg in the Seventh Dimension Page 2
